Pulse of Life
by Graelyn
Summary: Miira Telvan, on a path to reclaiming her family's honour in the Deep Roads, is thwarted by a Pride Demon and is thrust into the new and perilous life of an Abomination. OCs. *disclaimer* DA:O world is not mine.
1. So It Begins

She felt her heart pounding like a drum. Pulsing like the writhing horde of darkspawn that squirmed in the rocky passage below. Miira could feel the stench that rose up like a repulsive wave, infecting the air even where she stood. A few meters up, perched on a natural outcrop Miira trembled, she could feel her nerve wavering. Her ill fitting, steel-plate armour weighed her slight frame down, slowly and relentlessly it seemed to be dragging her into the ground. The darkness that appeared to emanate from the horde crept upward, the taint creeping ever closer to Miira's hiding place. There was no escape from the sound of the putrid, rattling breath, seeping out and contaminating the long-forgotten air of the Deep Roads. Miira's hand convulsively gripped the hilt of her family's blade.

_Stop it_, she chided herself as unwelcome, salty tears carved rivers through the layers of grime on her cheeks, _just accept your fate as Mother and Father did theirs. Reclaim your family's honour_.

With that Miira steeled herself. Her purpose clear. She took one step back, preparing to launch herself upon the writhing black heart of the horde. Suddenly, she was thrown backwards. An unseen force propelled her into the archaic rock wall, her helmeted head ricocheted forward from the impact and she stumbled wildly. Her mind reeled and her vision throbbed until she gave in to the black pool of unconsciousness that groped for control.

A soft, balmy breeze caressed her face and Miira's eyelids fluttered open. The sky was a mild pinky-blue and cushioned with gold-gilded clouds. The grass on which she lay was softer than even her pillow at home, unnaturally soft. Miira scanned the sky above and a wicked, black form hanging ominous yet motionless in the sky made it abundantly clear that she was no longer in the Deep Roads.

"The Fade," a tall figure materialised as if from the air itself. It appeared to be humanoid, long horns protruded from its skull, its fingers bore talon-like nails and its lean frame was swathed in black cloth and dragonbone armour.

Miira started, her hand reaching instantly for her currently empty scabbard, "Who are you?" She demanded her voice quavered, despite the fact that the creature had made it quite clear exactly what it was.

"And why does it matter to you? You're in my domain, mortal, these are my rules," the creature grinned wickedly, its abnormally long canines flashed in the rapidly fading light, "You may call me Broduil, Child of the Maker".

"Demon!" Miira gasped, her muscles froze up in terror.

"But you already knew that," the demon's golden eyes flared.

"You – y – you're a Pride Demon… I want nothing to do with this!" Miira's voice rose in panic, "Leave me be, I am no mage, I have nothing to give you!"

The demon chuckled, its laughter echoed across the blackening plane, "I have watched you, mortal. Through the Veil of my eternal slumber, I remain vigilant. And you, dear mortal, do, in fact, have something to give".

Miira whimpered, "By the Maker, no… not like this…"

"Fear not," the demon's grin widened, " I present thee with a choice."

Sheer terror allowed her no tears as she gulped down a dry sob.

"You may choose to perish by my hand or live on. With either choice, I possess your mortal flesh as my own. Choose quickly, my patience wavers".

Miira could hardly believe her own ears. Death or eternal imprisonment within her own body awaited her. Despite the horrific tales of abominations, despite everything she had been taught of demons and their ilk, the steady drum of life beat within her and fed her overwhelming will to survive.

Miira could barely even recognise her own voice, filled with cold calculation as she spoke, "I choose life".

"So be it".


	2. A New Beginning

Miira felt her consciousness return to her unmoving form. She opened her eyes slowly, the lack of colour and light confirmed that she was still in the deep roads.

_Rise_

She felt a voice speak in her mind. The demon. Broduil.

_Not quite what you expected I see_, Miira detected the faint amusement in his voice, _over many aeons I have learnt, robbing a being instantly of energy is inefficient._

"What do you prefer," Miira spat as loudly as she dared, confident now, this was _her_ body, "enslaving minds within their own bodies?"

Broduil laughed, it seemed to echo unnervingly in every corner of her mind, _Not quite, dear mortal, I share the host's mind and feed from those they encounter._

"Is their any benefit for me in this… parasitic association?"

_Not parasitic, mutualistic. Increased strength, magic, speed, accuracy and the like. Including unnaturally prolonged life and youth, but you must feed._

"So we share my mortal vessel, whose attributes are strengthened, but we must feed from those we encounter?" She wasn't quite sure if the price for such power was worth it.

_Indeed_, Miira felt the demon twitching in anticipation, she decided to delay his feeding for a moment longer.

"Anything else I should know about? Visions? General bloodthirstiness?"

_Your physical appearance,_ the chuckled softly and an image appeared in her mind. It was Miira. Long, almost white hair, intelligent grey-blue eyes, sharp nose and typical rosebud lips. Almost a mirror image of her own stunningly beautiful mother. The image warped itself. Black grew form the corner of her left eye tainting the whole of her whites to the hue of pitch, the image's once-blue iris was distorted to a deep golden tone. A hunter's eye. She clutched her own eye and felt Broduil's amusement as she watched on in terror. Two ram-like horns sprouted from the figure's head and curled round until their points were situated in line with corners of her mouth. The now half-demon, half-Miira grinned to reveal long and cruelly pointed canines. It flexed its left arm, the skin of which twisted and writhed as what seemed like dark, metal plated pushed their way out of her skin to cover the entirety of her arm and hand as wicked black talons replaced once finely shaped human nails.

"W-what is this!"

There was no answer from the demon in her head. Suddenly, her own arm started to pulse and writhe. Miira felt her whole body pulsing and her teeth ached. She screamed. But what came out was like to sound ever heard on Thedas. Miira waited, curled up on her side in silence for longer then she cared to remember. Finally, she gathered up the courage to move and open her eyes. She could barely make out the shapes of the rocky overhand and empty passage beneath.

_It is done_

Miira hissed in distaste, the sight she had now in darkness was the demon's doing. She stood up and her legs ached as though they hadn't been used in years.

_Might I suggest we leave this place, dear mortal, I hunger_.

Miira had quickly accepted her fate and the feeling of power that coursed through her body crushed any regrets she had. She had lost her life and gained another. Darkspawn seemed such a small threat compared to the outside world of Ferelden that awaited, namely the Chantry.

Miira took a step forward and peered over the ledge. She hastily jumped down, the sound of her rattling armor echoed eerily through the Deep Road tunnels. She noticed that her family's suit of armor no longer weighed down on her slight shoulders, increased strength indeed.

_Left_, Broduil instructed and Miira obeyed, glad that at least the demon had some idea where to go. On her journey in search of the Darkspawn she had lost all sense of direction.

It was many hours, days perhaps, until the scent of fresh air reached Miira's nostrils. She quickened her pace, the demon's hunger she could feel in her own belly, though, undoubtedly, she had to eat tangible food as well as energy to sate them both.

_We have almost arrived._

"I cannot walk into a crowd like this," Miira informed the demon, "I _look_ like an abomination".

_Indeed, I confess, this had not crossed my mind. It has been many ages since I walked alongside mortals._

"A cloak will suffice to cover my head, since a helmet will no longer fit. Perhaps some cloth to cover my eye?"

_And some new, light armor. No effective magic can be worked in heavy armor._

"We cannot sell my family's armor!" Miira gasped, incredulous.

_No? Perhaps we can sell your body to pay, then?_ Broduil sneered viciously, _the faster you learn your family is no longer, the better. You are an _abomination_, your family consists of none but me_.

Miira clenched her teeth and spat on the ground, the very thought of being associated, much less _related_, to such a loathsome creature sickened her to the core. Yet, she had chosen this life, the blame was solely on her own shoulders. Perhaps if she had truly been a coward, as her aunt had said, she would not have come to the Deep Roads to seek redemption for her family's crimes. She would not have met the demon and would not be trapped in a helpless situation, forced to feed from her fellow human beings.

But it was hopeless, she could no more easily change it than the stars in the sky. Pale light gradually illuminated the ancient Dwarven tunnel, it was the end of her old life and the beginning of a new one.


	3. The Path Left Behind

The overwhelming smell of fresh, winter air flooded Miira's heightened senses, accompanied by the harsh, cold light of the world above the Deep Roads was utterly disorienting. Patches of virgin snow blanketed the muddy earth and the deadened foliage that meagerly occupied the bleak wasteland. The sight of the unclouded sky, however, was enough to detract from the journey back to civilization that awaited. The very sight sent Mirra's spirits soaring, she felt even Broduil in awe of it's unrivaled vastness. Despite their desolate surroundings, so very different from the rolling plains of her home in Blackrock, Miira took comfort in simply being above the ground, rather than under it.

_I had almost forgotten Thedas…_

Miira held her tongue, surprised at Broduil's apparent wistfulness, though she had no doubt in her mind he feigned it. She sighed and began to walk westward, towards civilzation. Not a word was shared between the two minds for many hours. As she trudged on, through the half-frozen, muddy slush deeper in to the Hinterlands, Miira couldn't help but notice the way the winter cold, though it should have been at the very least chilling her lungs, was robbed from her by the demon's magic. Above all her current physical and psychological abnormalities, the simple human frailty in the harsh Ferelden winter that had been stolen from her was what hurt the most. The plumes of steam rising as she breathed were a constant reminder of what she had lost, and there was nothing she had that could deaden the pain.

_So different from Blackrock. No pastures of boundless green, no Mother and Father to welcome you home-_

"Silence! You dare speak of my parents, Demon?" Miira stopped in her tracks, "You may share my mind, creature, but you may not share my memories. Perhaps you do this for amusement, but I will not play your games".

She felt Broduil stir in her mind, his anger flooded her senses and her disfigured arm ached dully. They lapsed into silence as Miira trudged on, the sound of her boots sloshing through the half-thawed mud was the only sign of life for miles. Thoughts spun in her head. Mother, Father and Blackrock. Tears sprung unbidden to her eyes, obscuring her vision, she couldn't school her own thoughts as memories came flooding back.

They had been good parents, strict yet forgiving. They had instilled within Miira the most admirable of values; courage, respect, humility, temperance and, above all, duty to one's family. And Miira had failed them, there was no doubt. At first, revenge had choked her mind, rage and abhorrence at the betrayal of her family.

Her Aunt Yssine, the venomous viper of the Telvan Clan, had finally struck, assassinating her own sister and brother-in-law and storming Blackrock Fort with mercenary troops. The battle had been bloody and mercifully quick, with the native forces either surrendering or fleeing. Yssine had chosen the optimal time to attack, when the crux of the Telvan militia was aiding the Ferelden army in a battle against the invading Orlesian Empire.

Miira's sorrow turned to fury as she walked, remembering. Despite the surrounding frozen countryside, she could feel the heat of her fury pulsing through her entire body. The frost on the earth around her melted away as she walked, every muscle quivering with emotion. She should've stayed, she should've been there to stop her Aunt, but so wrapped in her own grief as she was, Miira fled.

_Cowardice_, she thought, disgusted. Not only that, but she had taken her Mother's Clan armor and sword, hoping to silence her suffering at the hands of the Darkspawn and redeem her own show of weakness. It had all ended in failure, she hadn't died and she hadn't avenged the honour of her own family.

_It is past_, Broduil spoke, _the future awaits_.

"Infernal demon!" Miira roared, her corrupted arm slamming into a nearby boulder as she vented her rage, "You know nothing of me! My family was slaughtered, yet you talk of feigning peace with myself?"

The demon said nothing. Miira went cold, as though every ounce of feeling she had was drained from her body. Her fury was spent and she was left purposeless. Almost.

_We must keep moving_, strangely, the demon sounded tense, worried, even.

Miira managed a weak grin, "Scared, Demon? Of the big, dark Korcari Wilds?"

_Mortal_, he spat, enraged, _you do not know what it is that you mock. This is a place of ancient power, one that I would not chance to trifle with_.

Miira'a eyes narrowed, Broduil knew something she didn't and she intended to find out exactly what that was.


End file.
